


Stardust and Sunlight

by ThatsTheSpiritDear



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9241280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatsTheSpiritDear/pseuds/ThatsTheSpiritDear
Summary: Ginny Weasley is a good person. She prides herself on that. Pansy Parkinson is not and it's something she's really trying to forget. Years have passed. The boy who lived is a man, one that Ginny has divorced and Hogwarts is far behind them, yet these two ladies have found themselves back together again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> // A.N - Welcome to my first fic. It's been rattling about my brain for what feels like eternity. Please be kind whilst I sort out what I'm doing, but all feedback is appreciated! Future chapters will be much longer than this one! //

**Chapter 1, Consequences.**

_"If you've done something and you're ashamed to tell people about it, you probably shouldn't have done it."_

 

The banging on the door was insistent. Ginny knew it wasn’t going away, for neither love nor money, but she ignored it anyway. Whoever it was could sit out there until she was ready to get up, thank you very much.

  
She rolled over and pulled the covers above her head. The incessant banging continued.

  
Ginny groaned, “For the love of Merlin Harry, use your key!” She tangled her feet into the duvet and waited, eyes scrunched shut like a child.

  
Sometimes she did wonder what the point was of Harry having a key to their home, considering he woke her – and their children – numerous times, rolling in from work at the most ridiculous times imaginable. It made her sick with anger sometimes, most of the time, however, she barely noticed. Living with Harry, it seemed, simply made her tired, so what difference did losing a couple hours of sleep make? It was one of the reasons that she was considering leaving him.

  
Ginny sat up in bed. Her bed. In her flat. Not the ridiculously large king-size Harry had made her buy when they had gotten their house. The bedspread was blue, not white. Her room was hers, not theirs.

  
She and Harry had divorced three years ago. He didn’t have a key. There really was someone at the door.

  
“Shitting hell!” Ginny threw the covers off of her body and ran out of the bedroom. The lounge floor was cold on her bare feet the fact that she had forgotten to pay her heating bill was evident. The room, to be frank, was bloody freezing.

  
The banging was still going strong.

  
“Yes, yes. I’m bloody coming!” Ginny called out, rubbing her hand over her face. She was not a morning person. They were evil and harsh and should be eradicated off the face of the Earth really.

  
Not that she was hung-over or anything.

  
There was one last bang as Ginny argued with the chain on the door, then she swung it open to see Draco Malfoy stood in the hallway. The morning really was not improving.

  
“Thank goodness, I thought you might be dead.” Draco drawled, making his way into the flat. Ginny moved aside.

  
“What the fuck are you doing here?”

  
“Charming as ever Ginevra.”

  
Ginny exhaled, pulled her hair back and secured it. “Draco, it’s a pleasure to see you here, in my home, unannounced, at the most horrendous hour imaginable. What can I do for you?”

  
“Whilst understandable,” Draco replied, flicking his wand towards the kettle on the stove, “your sarcasm is unappreciated.” He began to gather cups and ready them for tea, “Anyways, I’m not unannounced, I’m expected.” Draco poured the water and extended a cup towards her.

  
Ginny took it, doing her best not to bite Draco’s head off. It wasn’t really his fault that she had stayed up with Luna and Neville last night and drank her body weight in white wine. Nor was it his fault that she had forgotten to drink any water last night, or that she had forgotten to brew, well anything that would make her feel less shit in that very moment.

 

So no, it wasn’t Draco’s fault, but it was getting harder and harder to remember that as he bashed about her kitchen.

  
“Draco, you’d think that, you know, if you were expected, I’d be, like, expecting you.”

  
“Don’t get smart with me Weasley, the fact that you’re practically hanging off the face of the earth this morning is not my fault.” Draco’s face was grave but Ginny could see his amusement in the relaxed edges of his eyes. She sighed and sipped her tea. Draco glanced at the clock on the oven. “Shit, you’d best get dressed, she’ll be here soon and I’m not convinced you should be opening the door in your delicates.”

  
Ginny looked down at her old Holyhead jersey. The colours on it had faded significantly but it was still the comfiest thing she owed. He was lucky really that she had anything on at all.

  
“How I answer my own freaking door is my business, thank you very much.” Ginny replied, moving around her kitchen to jam toast into the toaster. It was a toast sort of morning.

  
Draco grinned, “Regardless of who’s business is who’s, you should really get dressed. Seeing you like that will definitely make her uncomfortable, even if you are happy for the whole world to see the exact curve of your arse.”

Ginny spread butter on her toast. “My arse is fantastic I’ll have you know and who is this ‘she’ that has become a constant in our conversation?”

  
Draco stole the toast that was making its way into Ginny mouth. “Let’s not fuck about now Ginevra.”

  
Ginny frowned. “I’m serious. Who are you bringing round?”

  
Draco expression dropped, slowly. His entire demeanour changed and it put Ginny on edge. She shoved the last of her toast into her mouth and made her way back across the lounge to her bedroom. Draco followed.

  
“Pansy, Ginevra. We discussed this all last week!” Draco said, calling through the bedroom door Ginny had closed behind her. She pulled off her jersey and hunted around for clean underwear.

  
“I think I would remember discussing Pansy bloody Parkinson!”

  
“It was when we went to your brothers for dinner?”

  
Ginny pulled a t-shirt over her head. “I was wasted that night!” She pulled on her jeans.

  
“Ah, well you’ve agreed now.” Draco said, “I can’t exactly tell her she can’t come, can I?”

  
Ginny pulled open her door. Draco was leant across the doorframe, one leg crossed over the other. She frowned. “What is is that I’ve agreed to do?”

  
Draco’s ran his hand over his mouth. “Pans got evicted from her flat in York. She’s moving back to London. You said she could rent your spare room.”

  
Ginny’s stomach turned over. There was no way she had been that drunk. Surely. She closed her eyes, desperate to recall some memories of that night. There had been wine. Hermione had told everyone that her and Ron planned on moving. Harry had told her about McGonagall offer. She had spent two whole hours talking to Draco about the lifecycle of stars.

  
It was there, wedged in with all the other memories.

  
_“She’s just got no where to go, Ginevra. Harry says we don’t have room for her but she's my best friend. I don’t know what to do.”_  
 _“Draco, I have a spare room, she can come and live with me!”_

  
Ginny swallowed, her mouth suddenly drier than she’d ever imagined it could be. Draco looked like he might be in pain.

  
“You aren't going to make me send her away, are you?”

  
Ginny shook her head, despite her instincts. “No. It’s fine. I remember. She can stay.”

  
Draco’s smile was almost unnerving as Ginny pushed past him back into the lounge. She needed a lie down, more tea and something for the pounding headache that was tearing through her head.

  
There was time for none, as at that moment, there was a single, sharp knock at the door.

  
“That’ll be Pans.” Draco said, making his way back towards the front door. Ginny suppressed her sigh.

  
The wine had been a mistake.


	2. The Mess and the Tragedy

Chapter 2- The Mess and The Tragedy.

“Good friends will take all of your bullshit, absorb it, bare it and then slap you around the face and tell you to get the fuck up.”

Pansy really wasn't sure how she had ended up standing at a cheap plastic table with Draco and Ginny fucking Weasley, but she liked to think she was at least semi adaptable. Some things, however, were unforgivable.

Like mugs.  
She looked at the mug Draco was cradling in his hands. That could only be Potter’s influence. Pre-Potter Draco would never have been caught dead with a ceramic mug.  
That in mind, Pre-Potter Draco would never have been stood in the kitchen of Ginevra Weasley, drinking tea, laughing like they were friends.

Still, a mug? Tragic.

“Pansy, you can sit down you know? No one’s going to bite you.” Ginny’s tone was sharp, like she may, in fact, bite her. Pansy reluctantly lowered herself into the chair.

“Pans, drink your tea.” Draco’s voice was scolding, like she was a child. She pushed the only full mug on the table away from her.

“I’d rather have a gin thanks.”

Draco rolled his eyes and it gave Pansy a deep sense of satisfaction. It always did, pushing him to his very limit, seeing how much he would take from her.  
So far, he had taken it all. Pansy wondered if maybe the war had damaged his mental state.  
Ginny got up from the table and it pulled Pansy’s attention. Age had barely touched her. Light skin barely wrinkled, freckles still dotted across her body. Pansy took half a second to wonder where they went after they disappeared beneath the short Quidditch jersey Ginny was wearing before she switched her thoughts back to hating everything about the situation.  
Things like disappearing freckles were for long wine discussions with Blaise, not for tea around a Weasley table.  
Ginny reached up into a cupboard and pulled out a short glass and a dark blue bottle.  
“Ginny, it’s 11am, you don’t have to…” Draco began, but Ginny placed the bottle onto the table was a hard thud.  
“She’s a grown woman.” Ginny replied, opening the bottle and pouring out a measure of the clear liquid, “If she wants a gin, a gin she will have.”  
Ginny threw herself back into her chair and stared at Pansy over the glass. Pansy felt her stomach turn over.  
She didn't really want it. She’d gone on a bender the night before and was feeling positively horrid.  
But the look on the Ginny fucking Weasley’s face was so insufferably smug that Pansy knew she had no choice.  
She ignored the churning of her stomach, raised an eyebrow and picked up the glass.  
“Pans.” Draco’s voice was low. A warning. Pansy ignored him and drank the gin in one gulp.  
Her face didn't falter, her eyebrow didn't droop but her insides were screaming.  
Ginny looked like she wanted to smile. Pansy placed the glass back on the table.  
“Right, now that you’ve proved how much of a bad arse you are” Draco snapped, pulling the gin away, “Can you drink your fucking tea and behave?”  
“I always behave.” Pansy bit back, a retort always ready on her tongue.  
Draco snorted. “You never behave.”  
Ginny sucked in a sharp breath. “Fan-bloody-tastic.”

The bedroom was smaller than Pansy had been used to growing up. She’d had two bedrooms in her childhood home. One for dressing and another for sleeping.  
Even in York, she’d lived alone, so while there wasn't a lot of space, it had all been hers.  
Now she lived in somebody’s spare room. It was a tragedy.  
She was a tragedy.  
Pansy threw her case down onto the bed and sat next to it. Her one case.  
Everything she owned fit into one single case. Tra-gic. Her Mother would’ve been horrified at how she had fallen. Pansy smiled a small, grim smile.  
But the world has fallen Mother. Good riddance.  
She stood and unzipped the case. Six dresses, five skirts, ten tops and one set of dress robes. 12 sets of underwear. Pansy sighed.  
“I need a job.” Not that she was qualified to do a single thing. Being a horrible heartless bitch in High school was not a profession.  
Though, Pansy had been so bloody good at it.  
Maybe Draco could find her something at the hospital. Not that she would ever ask. She hadn't even told him she was being evicted yet he had turned up the day she moved out with a borrowed car and the promise of somewhere else to live.  
He had landed on his feet, the bastard. Merlin, she loved him.  
Pansy gathered up her clothes and put them away in the small wardrobe by the door. There wasn't much else in the case. Makeup, a few pairs of heels, books she couldn’t bare part with and her wand, tucked away in a box she hadn't opened in a long time. She moved the rest of her belongings to various homes throughout the room. Homely was not a word she would describe the space, but if it was hers, it was going to be tidy at least.  
Especially since the living room was an absolute nightmare. Ginevra Weasley was a mess and Pansy was considering if living out on the streets of London would be cleaner.  
There was a light knock on the door and then there she was, the mess. Pansy’s housemate. How was this even happening?  
Ginny smiled softly, her eyes glancing around the bare room. Pansy hated her expression, felt her face freeze over. Ginny’s smile disappeared.  
“Is everything ok for you?” Her voice sounded so genuine. Pansy lifted her chin.  
“I guess it’ll have to do.” She sneered. “Though how anyone calls this a room, I’ll never know.”  
Pansy watched Ginny literally bite her tongue. The usual streak of malice flared up inside her. How far could Ginny Weasley be pushed? How much would she take?  
“I guess this is like a palace to you though, after that shamble that was your home growing up?”  Pansy watched with grim delight as Ginny’s face flushed red. She was easier than Draco, easier even than Potter, who Pansy had only seen twice since that night in the Great Hall, both visits had ended in him storming out of the room and telling Draco he was, sorry love, but I cannot stay in there with her, it’s like going three rounds with a hippogriff. Call me when she’s gone.  
“I’m making pasta for dinner,” Ginny continued through gritted teeth, “you’re welcome to join me tonight, but you really should go food shopping tomorrow. I’ve cleared you some space in the cupboards.”  
Pansy lay back down on the bed. “No thank you. I’ll be going out.” She closed her eyes hoping Ginny would get the hint that she was being dismissed.  
The door slammed shut. Pansy ran a hand over her face.  
Merlin, this was going to be hard.

 

“Parkinson is a nightmare. Honestly Luna, I don’t know how I’m gonna get through this.” Ginny was sat at Luna’s kitchen table for the third time in a week. Luna was smiling softly as she worked on some form of protective clothing for hunting water-based Doxy-Imp hybrids.  
“I think you’re being a bit dramatic.”  
“She’s a menace Luna.”  
Ginny took a large sip of the tea Luna had handed her and sighed. Luna continued to stick seashells onto a large purple t-shirt.  
“I don’t think she’s menace Gin” Luna replied, “She’s just troubled. There’s a lot of unused energy in people like her, it’s bad for the brain.”  
Ginny snorted. “There’s a lot wrong with her brain but energy is not the reason.”  
Luna looked up from her work and stared at Ginny, in a way that only a Lovegood could. Like she was reading your mind and assessing your soul all at once. Ginny squirmed in her chair and looked back down at the tea. The greyish liquid swirled around in her mug. It was quite delicious, which was rare for Luna’s experimental teas. Ginny made a note to ask what root she had harvested it from.  
“She’s been through a lot Gin. She needs a friend.” Luna’s voice was soft. Softer than usual. A voice she reserved for her twins when they were misbehaving. Irritation shot through Ginny.  
“We’ve all been through a lot Lu. Doesn’t mean we get to act like the world owes us every single damned thing we want.” Ginny picked up one of Luna’s seashells and turned it over in her hands. “Besides, she has Draco and Blaise and Astoria’s sister, what was her name? Anyway, she has friends.”  
Luna put the t-shirt down on the table and pulled Ginny’s tea away from her. “Daphne moved to San Fransisco years ago, Blaise travels pretty much 90% of the year and Draco!” Luna pulled Ginny’s chin up to look at her. “You’ve been married to Harry. When you were together, how often did you hang out with someone other than Hermione and your brother?”  
Ginny pulled her face away, her teeth clenched. Luna was right, of course and Ginny hated being mad at her, but she couldn’t help it. She was simply mad.  
Mad at Pansy for being such hard work, mad at Draco for bringing her into their lives, mad at herself for ever agreeing to it all in the first place.  
She was mostly mad at Parkinson.  
Luna gathered up her remaining seashells and began to thread them together. “Rolf will be home soon, we’re going to Hogsmeade to have dinner with the twins before we leave for Morocco.” Luna handed Ginny her newly made seashell necklace. Ginny tied it around her neck as Luna swatted at the air by her head. “You’re welcome to join us. I’m sure McGonagall would be happy to let yours out for an evening.”  
Ginny’s heart ached. The idea of seeing her children was devastatingly tempting. She could practically see the grin on James’ face as he and Fred lounged in the common room, so like her brothers it was frightening. She wanted to see Al’s shy smile as he told her about his new favourite hobby, one he would drop in a month for the next thing, but would be just as passionate as ever in that moment. Lily would arrive with paint on her fingers, her wand in her hair and a paintbrush in her pocket instead of the other way around. As clueless as her father and clumsy in a way neither she or Harry had been.  
It was an addicting thought, her children smiling, happy to see her.  
“Lily still not writing back?” Luna asked, her voice sounding unbearably loud in the room. Ginny didn't answer, just dragged a hand through her hair and stood.  
“I better go Lu. I’ve kept you long enough.”  
“You never keep me.” Luna replied, crossing the kitchen to gather a small bunch of weeds from the window sill. “But if you’re done talking. Here, this is what I got the tea from. Stew them with dittany extract and jasmine.” Luna handed Ginny the plants and smiled.  
Ginny gave her a half hug. “Give my love to Neville.”  
She apparated out with a loud, pop.

 

The stove was against her, Pansy knew it. In fact, she was almost convinced that Ginevra had jinxed everything in the flat to attack her.  
She had only tried to turn it on, holding the button down and turning the dial like she had seen Draco do at his and Harry’s place, but it had attacked her. Now she was sporting a pretty disgusting burn on her forearm and she was hungry.  
She wanted to scream. She began to retreat back into the living room, when the front door began click.  
“Ginny?” It was a male voice. Pansy glanced down at herself. She had gotten dressed out of habit, thank Merlin. The door opened. “Ginny, are you in?”  
A tall boy walked into the kitchen and stopped. He stared at Pansy. She stared back.  
“Who are you?” The boy asked. Pansy blinked twice. His hair was blue.  
“Who are you?” Pansy snapped back, tucking her arms behind her back. The boy grinned.  
“I asked first.”  
Pansy narrowed her eyes. “I live here.”  
“Hello ‘I live here.’”  
“That was a terrible joke.” Pansy watched as the boy moved towards the kitchen table and sat down.  
“I know, but I don’t perform to well under pressure.” He picked an apple out of the fruit bowl. “I’ll give. I’m Teddy.”  
Pansy watched Teddy chew his apple, a grin still sitting comfortably on his face. A face too fresh for the war.  
He doesn't know you Pans. He’s too young to know you.  
“Pansy.” She said, slowly, like she was trying the word out in the air. “I live here.”  
“Yeah, I got that.” Teddy replied. “Ginny didn't mention you. Are you two like…?”  
“Living in complete disharmony and repressing the urge to kill one another?” Pansy drawled. “Pretty much, yes.”  
Teddy’s grin spread even wider and Pansy suddenly found herself wanting to slap it off his face. She clenched her fists behind her back.  
“Were you trying to cook something?” Teddy asked, tipping his head towards the pot of water Pansy had left on the stove.  
“Pasta. It rebelled so I’m going to go out instead.” It was a lie. Pansy had no money left. The pasta wasn't even hers, she had found it one of Ginny’s cupboard and hoped to all that was good that she wouldn't notice its absence.  
“This hob is a bit rubbish. You have to jiggle it.” Teddy stood and pressed the button on the stove and twisted the dial erratically. After a few moments, a small blue flame appeared beneath the pot. Teddy cheered and Pansy couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on her face.  
“Impressive.” She scratched at the burn behind her back. “Can you watch that for a moment?”  
“Of course. I’m nothing if not a vigilant sous-chef.” Teddy pulled his wand from his back pocket and used it to stir the water. Pansy let her eyes flicker away from it as she walked past him, towards her bedroom. She didn't glance at the discarded box at the back of her wardrobe as she prised a cardigan out from above it. She pulled it on as she made her way back out into the kitchen.  
“You’re a friend of Ginevra’s?” Pansy leant on the edge of the worktop and watched as Teddy stirred her pasta.  
“Kinda.” He replied. “Harry’s my godfather, so Ginny is family.”  
“Potter and Ginevra got divorced.” Her voice was sharp. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”  
Teddy didn't miss a beat. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”  
“Girls like me don’t work.” The retort was out of her mouth before she could even think about it. Teddy stared down at the pasta and they lapsed into silence.  
Pansy fiddled with her necklace. Arguing with a child. How mature. “Well, the ex Mrs Potter isn’t home but I’ll tell her you stopped by.” She nudged Teddy away from the stove and took over stirring the pasta, her back to him, like if she tried hard enough, she could make him disappear.  
Teddy sat back down at the kitchen table. “I’ll wait.”

It was agonising. An entire hour of silence, as Pansy ate her pasta and Teddy looked at anything else in the room other than her.  
She could leave. She knew that but it was the principle. This was her home, no matter how much she hated it. It was her kitchen and she was not going to give it up.  
So they sat.  
“She’s still my family.” Teddy’s voice was soft, tiny. Pansy would've missed it if she hadn't been so on edge. She raised an eyebrow and continued eating her pasta. Teddy stared at her fork. “I know she's not married to Harry any more, but she's still my family. She still took me to my first quidditch match and she still writes me every week. She still calls me ‘Teds’ and makes sure I’m up and out of the house on my bad days. She’s my family.”  
Pansy felt the ice in her chest. She hated the word ‘family’. But he was a kid. A messed up one by the sounds of it. She had boundaries. Fleeting, brittle ones, but they were there. He was a kid.  
She swallowed some more pasta. “Ginevra is a pain in my arse.” Her tone was sharp but she allowed herself a small smile. When she looked up, Teddy was smiling back at her.  
“Give her a chance. She’ll surprise you.”  
Pansy pushed the bowl away from her. “No one surprises me anymore.”  
“Are you always this much of a downer?”  
“Yes.” Pansy stood. “I’m going in the living room to read. If you’re quiet, you may join me.”  
Teddy grinned as he followed her out of the room. He wasn't a bad kid after all and she hadn't missed his hair brightening as he talked about Ginny. The orange hue still lingered and even Pansy could admit, that was cool.


End file.
